Sparus aurata, the dorade royale, with lamb’s quarters and herbs. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Sparus aurata is truly a classic fish.

Called by many names — gilt-head bream in English, daurade or dorade royale in French, orata in Italian — the fish that now sits on my kitchen counter can also be found on Roman mosaics like this one from the ancient city of Pompeii, which famously perished in a volcanic eruption in year 79:

A mosaic found in House VIII.2.16 in Pompeii, now exhibited at the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli (No. 120177). The gilt-head bream (Sparus aurata) is at the top right. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

The gilt-head bream (Sparus aurata) depicted in a mosaic from house VIII.2.16 in the ancient Roman city of Pompeii. Note the characteristic gold-bar on the fish’s forehead. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

Here was a fish prized in French and Italian cuisines and has been a part of Mediterranean culture since at least the Roman times — yet having lived mostly in East Asia and North America, this was my first exposure to it.

The crushing, molar-like teeth of Sparus aurata can be seen here. The teeth pattern is common to members of the porgy family (Sparidae), enabling them to crush the shells of molluscs and crustaceans. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

I first saw dorade royale for sale a few weeks ago at my local fishmonger, Sunh Fish Company, but it was not until this week that I had a chance to take one home. When I asked, the store staff told me they had been ordering dorade as an experiment to see if there was interest in our local area. They told me the fish came from Cyprus.

A quick jaunt on Google revealed a New York Times article from 1997 on the dorade royale‘s newfound attention from New York City chefs. Other sources online even claimed that dorade royale was sacred to the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite (Shaw and Shaw 2000).

My exploration was further helped with a plastic tag attached to the fish by its original distributor — a tag printed with a QR code:

A QR code tag shipped with a daurade royale (Sparus aurata). In the background, the unique, molar-like teeth of the dorade can be seen in its mouth — a trait common in members of the porgy family, Sparidae. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

The QR code translated into a link for this video from an aquaculture company, Kimagro, showing thousands of gilt-head breams swimming in giant cage-pens used in farming marine fish out at sea — these ones being in Limassol, Cyprus:

(Oops — looks like embedding disabled by user. Click on this instead: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJR1iMqq8a0)

From ancient Roman mosaics to Greek gods to gargantuan aquaculture operations, the little fish in my hands suddenly felt very big.

To honor its Mediterranean heritage, I decided to bake my dorade royale whole, with familiar herbs and spices — rosemary, thyme, garlic, salt and black pepper, and a coat of olive oil.

The result was a revelation. My tongue first met a burst of flavor and texture from the crisp, fatty skin of the dorade, which paired perfectly with the deliciously sweet, juicy white flesh attached. It was wave upon wave of dazzling sensations, all from a single morsel.

Good enough for Greek gods, good enough for me.

Dorade royale (Sparus aurata), with their characteristic “gilt crowns” across their foreheads, await purchase in a fishmonger’s display case. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Addendum July 2, 2013: My dentist friend was fascinated by the crazy teeth of the dorade, and asked me to take closeup photos of the jaws I preserved. Here are two photos for your shock and delight:

The upper and lower jaws of Sparus aurata, from an anterior view. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

The upper and lower jaws of Sparus aurata. The jaws are positioned beyond their natural extension to showcase the teeth. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Sparus aurata Linnaeus, 1758
Dorade Royale (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Sparidae (Porgies)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/Sparus-aurata.html

Citations

Shaw, JW, MC Shaw. 2000. Kommos: an excavation on the south coast of Crete volume IV: the Greek sanctuary. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 1333p.

Addendum: I’ve edited the post to correct that Aphrodite was the Greek goddess of love, not Roman. Her Roman equivalent is named Venus.

– Ben Young Landis

Esox masquinongy, the muskellunge. (Image Credit: Ohio Department of Natural Resources)

Who says big fish with scary teeth are only found in oceans?

I give you the muskellunge (Esox masquinongy) — a fearsome predator of lakes, large rivers and slow-moving streams of the eastern United States and Canada.

As you can see, the muskellunge is all teeth. And is not small.

The toothy jaws and palate of a muskellunge (Esox musquinongy). (Image Credit: Unknown; sourced from http://www.muskiescanada.ca)

A happy angler with an adult muskellunge (Esox masquinongy). (Image Credit: Yves Blache)

As can be seen in the facial expression of this angler, the muskellunge or “muskie” has a fabled status among freshwater gamefish, called “the fish of a thousand casts” by some for its elusiveness. It lurks among dense aquatic vegetation, preying on fish and even ducklings and muskrats. And with known records of muskies reaching 1.83 meters (6 feet) and up to 31.8 kilograms (70 pounds), I can only imagine the adrenaline that comes with hooking and successfully landing one of these giants, which are the largest species of the pike family, Esocidae.

Indeed, vast resources and fanatic dedication are placed in the pursuit of this fish — as well as towards its propagation.

I was reminded of the muskie by this recent news story in the Star Tribune newspaper of Minnesota. It profiles the painstaking work undertaken by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources each year in its muskellunge breeding and stocking program.

Last week, state fisheries specialists were working in cold waters 52 degrees Fahrenheit (11 Celsius), trapping 60 to 75 adult muskellunge and harvesting their egg and sperm. About 900,000 eggs were artificially fertilized, in hopes that a crop of about 30,000 baby muskies will be successfully hatched, reared, then released into their native habitat — helping to maintain healthy populations of muskellunge in the wild, while satisfying the demand of eager sportsfishers seeking the catch of his or her lifetime.

See the full article and photo gallery at the Star Tribune to learn more.

Then, get an even more intimate picture of the muskellunge breeding and stocking effort by watching this fascinating Kentucky Afield documentary from the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources, which shows the humble beginnings of the great muskellunge from tiny eggs to pencil-thin fry — and the reverence and awe that the muskie inspires in anglers young and old.

The toothy grin of the muskellunge (Esox masquinongy). (Image Credit: Gilbert Rowley)

Addendum: After reading the post, friend and marine mammal specialist Robyn Walker relayed this fun tidbit about her encounters with muskies while working at Carleton University under Dr. Steven Cooke, on a project with Parks Canada and the City of Ottawa:

“My undergrad thesis involved swimming in a murky canal system with a bunch of these guys in Dow’s Lake (part of the Rideau Canal system) in Ottawa, Ontario. They are even more terrifying when you unintentionally end up nose-to-nose with one. They’re huge! Not gonna lie, there was a lot of snorkel-screaming that summer.”

Mind you, Robyn stands at about five-foot-three. The muskies would be almost as big as she was.

Having had my own “oh hai” moments with four-foot barracudas while diving, when you turn your head and suddenly see a mouth full of teeth in your face and big eyeballs looking back at you curiously — I can wholly identify with Robyn’s snorkel-screaming….

Esox masquinongy Mitchill, 1824
Muskellunge (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Esociformes (Pikes and Mudminnows)
Family Esocidae (Pikes)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/Esox-masquinongy.html

– Ben Young Landis

Thayeria boehlkei, known as the hockeystick tetra or penguin tetra. (Image Credit: Unknown; sourced from http://www.free-pet-wallpapers.com)

On this lazy Sunday afternoon I am watching ice hockey on television. The Pittsburgh Penguins are playing against the Ottawa Senators in the National Hockey League (NHL) Stanley Cup Playoffs — and I realized the perfect species to profile today would be one named after both hockey sticks and penguins.

Thayeria boehlkei is known in the aquarium trade variously as hockeystick tetra, penguin tetra, penguin fish or blackline penguinfish, after the black markings on its body. It grows to about 3 inches (7.6 cm), and hails from the Amazon and Araguaia river basins of South America. Thayeria obliqua and Thayeria ifati are related species which share similar black markings and also are referred to as “penguin fish”.

The “penguin fish” moniker also refers to its odd habit of hovering at a head-up, oblique angle:

Thayeria boehlkei, the penguin fish, resting at a positive oblique angle. (Image Credit: Unknown; sourced from wereallwet.com)

I found a masters thesis from 1979 where the author experimented with Thayeria boehlkei, Thayeria obliqua, and several other fish species to figure out how they maintain this unique posture.

The study involved some old-school methods, mainly removing caudal fins and pectoral fins and then seeing how the fish swam without one or the other, though the author did note that most fish regenerated the lost fins within weeks (“… except for the pectoral fin amputations in Nannostomus eques, which caused 100% mortality after about a week.”).

Thayeria boehlkei was found to have a center-of-mass naturally behind its center-of-buoyancy, meaning that if the fish was motionless, it would float slightly head-up. Loss of the caudal fin additionally hampered the fish’s ability to maintain its preferred head-up posture, causing the body to tilt even further — leading the fish to swim more actively to maintain its posture (Chondoma 1979).

But why rest heads up? Penguin tetras prefer to hover and feed near the water surface — which can make them more vulnerable to predators stalking them from below — but they do revert to a more typical, non-tilted posture when swimming rapidly.

The author postulated that this switch in posture between heads-up hovering and normal swimming results in a minor change in escape trajectory — a head-fake, to use ice hockey parlance — that allows penguin tetras a tiny, extra moment to flee a predator lunging from below (Chondoma 1979).

Now back to this game — still tied 1-1 and heading into second overtime! One of the Penguins needs to do a nice head-fake and score…

And here is your Random Fish Video Set to Crazy Soundtracks — this one set to a particular vintage genre:

Thayeria boehlkei Weitzman, 1957
Hockeystick Tetra (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Characiformes (Characins)
Family Characidae (Characins and Tetras)

FishBase Page: http://fishbase.org/summary/Thayeria-boehlkei.html

Citations:

Chondoma, EC. 1979. Oblique swimming in characoid fishes with special reference to the genus Nannostomus Gunther 1872. Master of Science Thesis, University of British Columbia. http://hdl.handle.net/2429/21562

– Ben Young Landis

“Need to improve your spawning success rate? I can help.” (Image Credit: Sony Pictures)

No, we are not talking about that Hitch.

We are talking about this hitch:

The hitch (Lavinia exilicauda) is native to the Sacramento and San Joaquin river basins of California. (Image Credit: René Reyes/U.S. Bureau of Reclamation)

The hitch (Lavinia exilicauda) is one of many species in Family Cyprinidae — carps, minnows and relatives. Growing to a little over 1 foot (36 cm) in length, the hitch is often described as very large minnow.

The name “minnow” really does cyprinids much injustice; in the English language, “minnow” carries such a connotation of blandness and impotence. Cyprinidae is in fact an incredibly diverse family of fishes, with more than 2,000 species found in Africa, Asia, Europe and North America, ranging in size from the micro glassfish (Danionella translucida), which doesn’t get bigger than an M&M chocolate — to the giant barb (Catlocarpio siamensis), rumored to reach 9 feet (3 meters). Large cyprinids can be voracious predators, and small ones… well, they might nibble dead skin off your feet, as we learned when we visited Garra cambodigensis. Cyprinids also have given humanity two true classics of ornamental fishkeeping: the goldfish (Carassius auratus) and the carp (Cyprinus carpio) .

So the hitch is in some quality company. And its reproductive lifestyle is no less exciting.

Male hitch have no need for a Will Smith-type romance coach: they just go right up to the ladies and say hello. As is described in the classic text Inland Fishes of California (Moyle 2002):

Spawning is a mass affair accompanied by vigorous splashing. A ripe female is closely followed by 1 to 5 males, who apparently fertilize eggs immediately after their release. There is no territoriality.

No fighting over dates. Just a whole lot of lovin’:

Hitch spawning at Bell Hill Road Crossing on Adobe Creek, Clear Lake, California. (Image Credit: Richard Macedo/California Department of Fish and Wildlife)

Hitch are native to the tributaries of the Sacramento and San Joaquin river basins in California, United States, with distinct subspecies in certain areas.

One subspecies, the Clear Lake hitch (Lavinia exilicauda chi), will be evaluated for potential listing as a protected species by the State of California. A study published recently considered the Clear Lake hitch one of 20 native California freshwater fishes most vulnerable to impacts from future climate warming (Moyle et al. 2013).

The name “hitch” comes from a Pomo language word possibly attributed to this species — which was once a food source for Native American cultures in the region (Moyle 2002).

Lavinia exilicauda, the hitch. (Image Credit: Greg Cornish)

Lavinia exilicauda Baird & Girard, 1854
Hitch (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Cypriniformes (Carp-like Fishes)
Family Cyprinidae (Carps and Minnows)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/Lavinia-exilicauda.html

Citations

Moyle, PB, JD Kiernan, PK Crain, RM Quiñones. 2013. Climate change vulnerability of native and alien freshwater fishes of California: a systematic assessment approach. PLoS ONE 8(5): e63883. doi: 10.1371/journal.pone.0063883

Moyle, PB. 2002. Inland fishes of California, Revised Edition. Berkeley: University of California Press. 517p.

Full disclosure: I was once a pupil in Peter Moyle‘s introductory ichthyology course at University of California, Davis. Also, a coauthor on the climate change study, Joseph Kiernan, is a close friend and mentor. I gladly promote their expertise here.

– Ben Young Landis

Danio margaritatus, the celestial pearl danio, a small cyprinid from Burma. (Image Credit: TropicalFiskKeeping.com)

Sometimes, a fish can simply leave you speechless.  Leaving you to simply mutter, “Wow.”

That was my reaction when I saw the photo above.

While I was writing the recent post on hitch (Lavinia exilicauda), I searched Google to look up the smallest members of the Family Cyprinidae. This photo and the words “galaxy rasbora” popped up in one of my search returns.

I had been out of the aquarium fish hobby for quite a few years, and apparently, I have been missing out on some incredible new species. I was stunned to see this luxurious combination of colors — gold spots upon dark teal, fins trimmed  with bright strawberry-red. And this bombastic name – galaxy rasbora — seemed so audacious for a tiny fish that could barely stretch across a U.S. nickel coin (0.8 inches/2.1 cm).

It was an unbelievably beautiful fish. And as it turns out, many people did not believe it was a real fish either, at first.

The stunning colors of Danio margaritatus, whose specific name translates as “adorned with pearls”. (Image Credit: unknown; sourced from http://www.myfishtank.net)

A Practical Fishkeeping article from 2010 and a Tropical Fish Magazine article from 2007 recount that when an eminent Thai fish exporter first shared photos of this fish on the internet in 2006, some aquarists were skeptical and thought the photos to be Photoshopped jokes. The beauty of this so-called “galaxy rasbora” seemed too good to be true.

But the joke was on the skeptics when within weeks, live specimens became available for sale. Eventually, a shipment of specimens was sent to Tyson Roberts, a research associate of the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute.

A 21.2 mm mature male (ZRC 50706) that served as the holotype specimen used to describe the new species Celestichthys margaritatus, later renamed Danio margaritatus. (Image Credit: Kamphol Udomritthiruj, published in Roberts 2007)

A 20.5 mm mature female (ZRC 50707) used as the paratype specimen used to describe Celesichthys margaritatus, later renamed Danio margaritatus. (Image Credit: Kamphol Udomritthiruj, published in Roberts 2007)

The specimens came from small pools near the town of Hopong, in the Shan State of Myanmar (Burma), about 3,420 feet (1,040 m) in elevation.

Roberts would describe the fish as a new genus and species, Celestichthys margaritatus — which means “a heavenly fish adorned with pearls” (Roberts 2007). Roberts also suggested that “celestial pearl danio” be used as the English name, owing to his analysis that the new fish was more closely related to danios, a known group of cyprinid species, rather than rasboras, another group of cyprinid species.

The locale near Hopong, Myanmar, where the type specimen of Danio margaritatus was collected. (Image Credit: Kamphol Udomrittthiruj, published in Roberts 2007)

Roberts’ danio diagnosis proved to be more accurate than he thought. In 2008, researchers at St. Louis University in Missouri, United States, would conduct additional analysis on the body structure and genetics of the celestial pearl danio. They found it to be similar enough to known fish species in the genus Danio and not different enough to warrant its own, unique genus, so they revised its name and classification to Danio margaritatus (Conway et al. 2008).

This name-change trivia finally gives me an example with which to explain a little detail from the world of zoological taxonomy…

In each Better Know a Fish profile, I list the scientific name of the species at the end. But you may have wondered why there is always a person’s name and year attached to that name. For example, in this post you will find:

Danio margaritatus (Roberts, 2007)

Here, Roberts’ name is in parentheses. But compare that to this:

Acanthurus achilles Shaw, 1803

No parentheses around Shaw’s name — which isn’t a typing error.

So what do these names and parentheses mean?

When researchers come across a potentially new animal species, some measure of research has to be done to declare it to be new. The new animal has to be examined and compared against specimens of similar, known species, in order to determine where this species fits into human classifications of known living things.

It is difficult work — imagine comparing the jaw bone shapes of these tiny danios. Once the analysis is complete, the researchers will present the evidence in an article for publication in a scientific journal. In the article, the researchers also have the privilege of proposing a two-part scientific name (like Celestichthys margaritatus), and optionally, an English common name.

With that article, the species becomes officially “described” to the world of professional science.

The authors of that article also receive credit for describing and naming the new species, and by taxonomic etiquette, whenever that species is mentioned in any future research articles for the first time, the describing author and the year of description is written alongside its scientific name.

But of course, science is not static — it is a process through which evidence can always reexamined and new findings determined. With any species, additional research may reveal evidence to suggest changes to the original classification.

Here, researchers Kevin Conway, Wei-Jen Chen and Richard Mayden reexamined Celestichthys margaritatus and determined that it really doesn’t warrant a new genus, and reclassified the species as Danio margaritatus — and this has since become widely accepted as the appropriate designation.

But under zoological taxonomy rules, Roberts’ name will always be attached to the celestial pearl danio, even if the species is reclassified yet again by another team. And to signify that the currently accepted scientific name was the work of researchers after Roberts, Roberts’ name is now put in parentheses.

Keeping the original authors with each species helps future researchers look up the original description research, should they ever need to. Of course, the continued recognition of the original authors isn’t so bad – describing a new species is a big deal, and a handsome feather in any biologist’s cap.

Now compare this to Acanthurus achilles Shaw, 1803. No parentheses. This means that no one has challenged (at least successfully) Shaw’s original assignment that the Achilles tang belongs in the genus Acanthurus, and that the name has never been changed since Shaw’s original mention.

I should note that I have greatly simplified the species description process here. The official code of conduct — there is one — has far more regalia and almost court-like procedures, steered by the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature (ICZN) and the International Union of Biological Sciences (IUBS).

One last tidbit: There are no such etiquette or procedures for establishing English common names. An aquarium store can choose to advertise Danio margaritatus as the “galaxy rasbora” or “fireworks rasbora” or “celestial pearl danio” — which ever one sells better, I suppose, although eventually, a name will stick in the public mindset or among professional enthusiasts.

Which name do I like? For me, I’ll probably just stick with “Wow” and keep on admiring….

Danio margaritatus (Roberts, 2007)
Celestial Pearl Danio (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Cypriniformes (Carp-like Fishes)
Family Cyprinidae (Carps and Minnows)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/Danio-margaritatus.html

Citations

Conway, KW, WJ Chen, RL Mayden. 2008. The “Celestial Pearl Danio” is a miniature Danio (s.s)(Ostariophysi: Cyprinidae): evidence from morphology and molecules. Zootaxa 1686: 1-28.

Roberts, TR. 2007. The “celestial pearl danio”, a new genus and species of colourful minute cyprinid fish from Myanmar (Pisces: Cypriniformes). The Raffles Bulletin of Zoology 55(1): 131-140.

– Ben Young Landis

A juvenile prickly dogfish (Oxynotus bruniensis) caught off of New Zealand. (Image Copyright: thevoiceofsue.wordpress.com/CC-BY-NC-ND)

There are some shark species that look nothing like our stereotypical image of sharks. This is one of them.

This is the prickly dogfish (Oxynotus bruniensis), and beyond saying that it is very strange-looking, there is actually not much else known about this species nor other members of the Family Oxynotidae, the roughsharks.

Roughsharks and the prickly dogfish are named for their very rough skin. You can see these large skin denticles by zooming in on this photo at The Voice of Sue blog.

The prickly dogfish has been collected from waters off of New Zealand and southern Australia, most often in depths 1,150 feet (350 m) to 2,130 feet (650 m). The maximum recorded length of prickly dogfish is about 2.3 feet (72 cm).

An illustration of a prickly dogfish (Oxynotus bruniensis) from a 1913 record from the Australia Department of Trade and Customs. (Image Source: http://www.archive.org/details/fisherieszoologi02aust)

So little is known about the species that the IUCN, an international conservation organization, ranks its conservation status as “data deficient” — not enough data is available to discern whether this species is dwindling or has stable populations.

Discovered in 1893, yet still a mystery today. What else is out there in our oceans? What more do we still have to learn about its creatures?

A prickly dogfish swims by Pisces V at Rumble V volcano. (Image Credit: New Zealand-American Submarine Ring of Fire 2005 Exploration, NOAA Vents Program)

Oxynotus bruniensis (Ogilby, 1893)
Prickly Dogfish (click for names in other languages)

Class Chondrichthyes (Cartilaginous Fishes)
Order Squaliformes (Dogfish Sharks)
Family Oxynotidae (Roughsharks)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/Oxynotus-bruniensis.html

– Ben Young Landis

The enormous size of the mola (Mola mola) makes it easy to spot on the ocean surface, like these waters off of Big Sur, California, USA. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Several years ago, I had the fortune to ride along with sea otter researchers off the coast of Big Sur, California, in the United States. As we cruised the coastal waters to prepare for sea otter captures, we noticed an enormous, pale shape floating near the ocean surface.

As you can see in the photo above, even with the wide expanse of the deep blue sea, this object was hard to miss.

U.S. Geological Survey biologist George Esslinger checks out an ocean sunfish (Mola mola) off the coast of Big Sur, California, USA. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

“It’s gotta be a sunfish,” one of the biologists said. Indeed it was.

The ocean sunfish, or mola (Mola mola) is a giant among fishes. A relative of puffers, it is considered the heaviest of the bony fishes, with one Japanese specimen weighing in at 5,071 pounds (2.3 metric tons) and measuring 8.9 feet (2.7 m).

A mola (Mola mola) captured off of Catalina Island, California, in 1910, reported at 3,500 pounds. (Image Source: U.S. Library of Congress PPOC)

An ocean sunfish (Mola mola) photographed in Florida waters. (Image Credit: NOAA OAR/NURP)

Ocean sunfish are most often seen when they bask and float near the water surface, drifting like a large plastic bag in the water. Given this sloth-like behavior, and its great size and odd fin arrangements, people assume molas are typically inactive creatures.

And they would assume incorrectly. Take a look at this video, where at the 2:30 mark, the mola speeds off in powerful fin strokes and launches itself towards the surface — leaping clear out of the water:

Here is another video showing a smaller mola breaching repeatedly, to the surprise of tourists:

For some reason, ocean sunfish are often afflicted with external parasites — many gruesomely dug into the sunfish’s skin, with some trailing like streamers on bicycle handlebars.

The breaching behavior may help molas dislodge some of these pesky parasites (Konow 2006). For more surgical precision, molas near coral reefs will allow themselves to be cleaned by smaller fish, such as butterflyfish and cleaner wrasses, as can be seen in this video at the 0:40 mark:

But elsewhere, molas rise to the surface and call in “air support”. Somehow, molas have learned to present themselves to seabirds — shearwater, gulls and albatross — lining up in schools of 50-plus individuals, awaiting seabirds to land on the sea surface, peek their heads below the water, and pluck and pull away at the molas’ parasites with their sharp beaks (Abe et al. 2012).

The molas get rid of their parasites, while the birds get a free buffet meal. Watch this incredible symbiotic behavior in this National Geographic clip:

Sleep tight and don’t let the molas bite. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Mola mola (Linnaeus, 1758)
Ocean Sunfish (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Tetradontiformes (Puffers and Filefishes)
Family Molidae (Molas)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/mola-mola

Citations

Abe, T, K Sekiguchi, H Onishi, K Muramatsu, T Kamito. 2012. Observations on a school of ocean sunfish and evidence for a symbiotic cleaning association with albatrosses. Marine Biology 159: 1173-1176. doi: 10.1007/s00227-011-1873-6

Konow, N. 2006. Adult emperor angelfish (Pomacanthus imperator) clean giant sunfishes at Nusa Lembongan, Indonesia. Coral Reefs 25: 208. doi: 10.1007/s00338-006-0086-9

Thanks to marine science educator Terri Kirby-Hathaway for suggesting the giant mola as a blogpost. And thanks to Dr. Joanna Chin for showing off her delightful mola pillows.

– Ben Young Landis

A pinfish (Lagodon rhomboides) on a dock in North Carolina. (Image Credit: Suzanne Smith)

This opalescent little beauty is a pinfish (Lagodon rhomboides), and I spotted the photo on my friend Suzanne’s Facebook page. Our exchange went something like this:

Me: “They’re called pinfish because their dorsal fins have really sharp spines that can poke your hand.”
Suzanne: “Oh, wow — now you tell me!! Ha — I experienced that first-hand. Too funny. They’re beautiful, though.”

While Suzanne hooked this pinfish off of a North Carolina marina, many other anglers along the eastern United States coastline and Gulf of Mexico have likely experienced the sharp sting of this innocuous-looking baitfish.

The needle-sharp dorsal spines of the pinfish (Lagodon rhomboides) is apparent in this specimen. (Image Credit: The Southeastern Regional Taxonomic Center (SERTC), South Carolina Department of Natural Resources)

And baitfish they are. Pinfish average about 7 inches (18 cm) in length, and are popularly used as live bait to catch the gamut of prized sportfish in the southeastern U.S. — tarpon, grouper, snook, barracuda and so on.

It would seem that their sharp dorsal spines offer only so much protection.

The gorgeous yellows, greens and blues of pinfish blend well into thickets of seagrass — when snorkeling, you’ll need sharp eyes to look for dark eyeballs peering back at you in a seabed of dull green. One study documented how pinfish grew faster in seagrass beds earlier in their growing season — where the flowing grass blades offer a maze of habitat for protection and food foraging — before growing big enough to venture out onto sandy seafloors (Harter and Heck 2006).

The pinfish is a type of porgy — frequent readers will recall that members of Family Sparidae, like the dorade royale, are oftened endowed with multitudes of odd teeth shaped like human incisors and molars.

The pinfish itself is equipped with some chomping incisors — a trait recognized by its genus name, Lagodon, which is Greek for “rabbit teeth”.

The incisors of Lagodon rhomboides, the pinfish. (Image Credit: Virginia Institute of Marine Science/The College of William and Mary)

I have one fond pinfish story: As a kid, I once scooped up a tiny, silvery sliver of a fish off a marina dock, and took it home and dumped it in my saltwater aquarium — which was used to serving as a transient motel for random species similarly netted.

Days would go by and I would only catch fleeting glimpses of the fish, maybe an inch long and lacking any distinguishing features. It was silver, had fins and eyeballs, and I had no idea what was darting in and out of the water pump current to catch little bits of fish food.

Later that summer I was away from home for several weeks, leaving only a timed food dispenser attached to the tank (I plead guilty to being an irresponsible teenager).

I returned to find a big surprise — darting between the rocks was a 3 inch-long, pearly oval shape, bigger than anything I knew was supposed to be in the tank. It took a few moments before I connected the dots.

My minute minnow had grown up into a pinfish.

Pinfish (Lagodon rhomboides) larvae are one example of how fish shapes and colors can drastically change as they grow and mature. (Image Credit: Wendy Allen/Baruch Marine Laboratory)

Lagodon rhomboides (Linnaeus, 1766)
Pinfish (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Sparidae (Porgies)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/3576

Citations

Harter, SL, KL Heck. 2006. Growth rates of juvenile pinfish (Lagodon rhomboides): effects of habitat and predation risk. Estuaries and Coasts 29(2): 318-327. doi: 10.1007/BF02782000

Special thanks to Mollie Reynolds and the Southeastern Regional Taxonomic Center (SERTC) at the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources for permission to use their pinfish photo. And of course to Suzanne Smith for her fishing photo.

– Ben Young Landis

Two pieces of sayori (Hyporhamphus sajori) nigiri. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Recently, my friends and I went to try out a Japanese restaurant new to us, but reputed to have some quality sashimi. A quick glance at the “Today’s Specials” whiteboard found a fish new to my tastebuds: sayori, or the halfbeak.

A new fish to try out? I’ll have one order, please.

The characteristic lower jaw of the halfbeak family is apparent in this photo. (Image Credit: unknown; sourced from shizuokagourmet.com)

Halfbeaks are marine fish belonging to the Order Beloniformes – belone translating as “needle” in Greek, describing the slender form of many of these fishes. Beloniform fishes also include flying fish, needlefish, as well as sauries, one of which we visited in a past blogpost.

Family Hemiramphidae contains the halfbeaks — named because their lower jaw juts out farther than their upper jaw.

Upon closer inspection, however, this beak-like extension is really just the fish’s chin, and not its entire jaw. As evolutionary biologist Matthew McGee explains in a blogpost from the Wainwright Lab of Dr. Peter Wainwright at University of California, Davis:

The halfbeak is actually a very long extension of the part of the mandible that is below, and in front of the teeth — a chin. The structure is smooth and not armed with teeth. This is our first clue that the structure is not an elaborate jaw used in prey capture. If it’s not part of the feeding apparatus, then how does it function?

McGee further explains proposed theories on the function of this well-endowed chin, including one hypothesis that it serves as a special sensing probe to detect prey in darkness. You can read more in his blogpost.

And how did the sayori taste to my sensory cells? Clean and delightful. The flesh was densely packed and firm, as you would expect from a thin, muscled fish. The shiso leaf tucked in the nigiri provided a minty counterbalance, and the spiced, berry-sweet sauce on top added another twang.

I did not get a chance to ask the chef the geographic origin of my halfbeak, but for the sake of a discussion on Japanese cuisine we will assume it is the Japanese halfbeak (Hyporhamphus sajori), a species native to Japan’s waters. Anglers from the southeastern United States will find it reminiscent of another halfbeak species — the ballyhoo (Hemiramphus brasiliensis), popularly used as trolled baits to catch sailfish and other open water gamefish.

We’ll close with two video demos of preparing sayori for sashimi:

A handful of sayori. (Image Credit: Honda Motor Co., Ltd)

Hyporhamphus sajori (Temminck & Schlegel, 1846)
Sayori (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Beloniformes (Needlefishes)
Family Hemiramphidae (Halfbeaks)

FishBase Page: http://fishbase.org/summary/305

– Ben Young Landis

Arts and crafts time with angelsharks… (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Why make paper angels when you can make paper angelsharks?

Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away when I was clearing scrap paper from my desk. But it’s another opportunity to better know a fish!

Angelsharks (Squatina squatina) are named for their large, wing-like pectoral fins, resembling that of the arching wings of angels in Christian traditions.

But these large fins do not give angelsharks the ability to leap and fly out of the water. Instead, the overall flattened body shape of angelsharks allow them to hug and bury into the ocean floor:

The dorsalventrally flattened body of an angelshark (Squatina squatina) is apparent in this photo. (Image Credit: Philippe Guillaume/CC-BY-2.0)

Camouflaged and blending into sandy and graveled seafloors, angelsharks wait motionlessly for their prey. If you watch enough nature programs on television, you are probably already familiar with the footage of a Pacific angelshark (Squatina californica) attacking a small horn shark (Heterodontus francisci).

Baby angelsharks get in the action, too, as seen in this clip from Deep Sea World in Fife, Scotland:

The expression on the kid’s face in the background is fantastic. The audible “crunch” of the angelshark bite in this next clip is pretty cool, too:

Reaching a maximum length of almost 6 feet (180 cm) in length — human-sized – Squatina squatina is found in the seas off of northern Africa, Europe and in the Mediterranean. It is one of at least 20 known angelshark species found in various seas around the world, all belonging to Order Squatiniformes.

Angelsharks and their unique bodies have long swam the oceans of our planet. Fossil evidence suggests that angelsharks originated as far back as 157 million years ago — the late Jurassic Period — making them contemporaries of dinosaurs (Klug and Kriwet 2013).

So that’s how far angelsharks go back. But where do they really come from?

Their mothers, of course. And via live birth. Shark reproductive strategies vary widely, and in angelsharks, an embryo develops without placental attachment to the mother, but instead is nourished by an attached yolk sac.

In this BBC News video clip, you can watch the assisted birth of angelshark pups, and see an endoscope view of angelshark embryos in utero.

Another generation born. Now picture this birth taking place in the Jurassic seas…

The angelshark (Squatina squatina) blends into its environment. (Image Credit: Flickr user greenacre8/CC-BY-2.0)

Squatina squatina (Linnaeus, 1758)
Angelshark (click for names in other languages)

Class Chondrichthyes (Cartilaginous Fishes)
Order Squatiniformes (Angelsharks)
Family Squatinidae (Angelsharks)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/736

Citations

Klug, S., J Kriwet. 2013. Node age estimations and the origin of angel sharks, Squatiniformes (Neoselachii, Squalomorphii). Journal of Systematic Palaeontology 11(1): 91-110. doi: 10.1080/14772019.2012.674066

– Ben Young Landis

Rockfish fillet, blackened. Served with heirloom tomato and mozzarella salad. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

When a great meal comes together, it brings a smile to my face. I was very happy with how this blackened rockfish fillet turned out — crusted with dried fines herbes and freshly ground black pepper, served with a tomato, basil, mozzarella and balsamic vinaigrette salad. With a glass of Lillet blanc, it was a delightful way to spend a summer afternoon.

But I would have been even more delighted if I could have learned the true identity of my rockfish.

The trouble with fish sold in most U.S. supermarkets is that they are often anonymous. Stripped of their skin, fins and head, there is nothing identifiable about each slab of meat.

Rockfish fillets sold by a retailer. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

For as far removed as most U.S. shoppers are to traditional butchers and farm operations, at least most people can point out what a chicken or steer or turkey looks like. But the same isn’t true for fish. In this particular package of fish fillets, all I have to go on are “Pacific rockfish” and “harvested in Canada” — and this stray scale.

A rockfish (Sebastes spp.) scale. The scale measures approximately 9 mm. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis)

This anonymity is especially complicated when rockfish are involved.

Typically, when I’m faced with an unfamiliar fish, there is at least a name or some clue that helps me dig deeper at its identity. But look up “Canadian rockfish” and you’ll find that there are at least 34 species of rockfish in the seas of British Columbia.

And as you can see from the below poster, these rockfish are a splendidly colored and diverse bunch.

A poster of British Columbia rockfish species, produced by Fisheries Oceans Canada. Click Image to open the poster PDF file. (Image Credit: Fisheries and Oceans Canada)

So which species might it be? The regularly updated commercial fishery summaries on the Fisheries and Oceans Canada website don’t offer much more help — they show that multiple species dominate the landings record. As of July 19, 2013, Pacific ocean perch (Sebastes alutus), yellowtail rockfish (Sebastes flavidus), widow rockfish (Sebastes entomelas) and silvergray rockfish (Sebastes brevispinis) round out the bulk of the landings.

With what few clues and resources available to me — and to most casual enthusiasts — my investigation meets a dead end. We are left only with a handful of Sebastes.

Most rockfishes indeed belong to the genus Sebastes, which in turn belongs to Order Scorpaeniformes — the scorpionfishes. This makes rockfishes the relatives of the red lionfish, and like the lionfish and other scorpionfishes, Sebastes species have venom glands in their fin spines.

But if there is one bit of rockfish trivia you take away today, it should be how old Sebastes species can grow.

Sebastes species are known to be incredibly long-lived. The Sebastes species with the longest estimated lifespans are the shortraker rockfish (Sebastes borealis) at 157 years and the rougheye rockfish (Sebastes aleutianus) at 205 years (Cailliet et al. 2001). The four species we named off earlier have estimated maximum ages of 100, 64, 60 and 82, respectively (Cailliet et al. 2001) — so it is possible that the rockfish I had eaten was equal to or much older than myself in age.

That is a humbling thought.

The earbone or “otolith” of a black rockfish (Sebastes melanops) bears rings that correspond with its age, and scientists often prepare otoliths for microscope examination in order to determine fish age. This rockfish is estimated to be more than 40 years old. (Image Credit: Vanessa von Biela/USGS)

What one makes of this fact is ultimately according to one’s individual perspective on nature. At the least, it is reflective to know that some fish — typically thought of as these ever-replenishing, disposable resources — have lifetimes on the same scale as human beings. That our human world goes on, decade after decade, with its changes in history and culture, from political upheavals to the wax and wane of fashions and arts — and all the while, schools upon schools of rockfishes swim the Pacific depths, living their lifetimes alongside ours, somehow making their way year after year, eating, sleeping, reproducing.

And on any given day, some rockfish is also meeting its fate in the jaws of a shark or a seal. Or, perhaps, under the blade of a fillet knife — and eventually in the snug, chilled embrace of supermarket cling wrap.

A yellowtail rockfish (Sebastes flavidus), one of the top commercial rockfish species from British Columbia, and a possible identity for our anonymous fillet. (Image Credit: Jean DeMarignac/NOAA SIMoN)

Author’s Note: Throughout this website, I have endeavored to profile individual fish species. For the purposes of this essay — and for the reasons explained — we are left without a species-level identification.

So our customary taxonomic blurb below describes the genus only. French naturalist George Cuvier was the first to describe a rockfish by the name Sebastes, which means “venerable” in Greek (the human name “Sebastian” comes from the same word).

The “spp.” used in the title of this post is a scholarly abbreviation used to denote “multiple species”, as in I am referring to all the species that belong to the genus Sebastes, and not one particular species. The abbreviation is not italicized, as in Sebastes spp. or Danio spp.

Sebastes Cuvier, 1829
The Rockfishes

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Scorpaeniformes (Scorpionfishes, Sculpins and Allies)
Family Sebastidae (Rockfishes and Thornyheads)

FishBase Page: http://fishbase.org/identification/SpeciesList.php?genus=Sebastes

Citations

Cailliet, GM, AH Andrews, EJ Burton, DL Watters, DE Kline, LA Ferry-Graham. 2001. Experimental Gerontology 36(4-6): 739-764. doi: 10.1016/S0531-5565(00)00239-4

– Ben Young Landis

Cobia (Rachycentron canadum) in the wild. (Image Source: actionfishingcharters.com)

The cobia (Rachycentron canadum) is a carnivorous marine fish that can reach a maximum size of 6 feet (183 cm) and 150 pounds (68 kg), cruising reefs, piers and oil rigs for crabs, fish and other prey. Its large, broad head and almost shark-like body shape is unmistakable to sports anglers around the world.

Cobia are also farmed as food fish in China and Taiwan, and cobia aquaculture is under development in the United States as well. Now, researchers from the University of Maryland’s Institute of Marine and Environmental Technology have announced a breakthrough in cobia farming — by cultivating cobia using a purely vegetarian diet.

Carnivorous fish require proteins and oils from their animal diet in order to grow. As a result, aquaculture of carnivorous fish requires the use of food pellets created from grinding up small fish like menhaden and sardines — an expensive and exhaustible resource, and a practice that often shifts the fishery of small fish species from more valuable sales as human food to feed-manufacturing sales.

But recently, researcher Aaron Watson and colleagues have evaluated a feed mixture that is entirely plant-derived, yet satisfies the nutritional requirements of cobia and potentially other cultured fish species (Watson et al. 2013).

Researchers Al Place and Aaron Watson (right) at their research facility at the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science. (Image Credit: University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science/Cheryl Nemazie)

Watson notes that “this work has been built on the work done by the USDA in developing fishmeal-free, plant-based feeds (mostly for rainbow trout), and we have come into the picture to evaluate their feeds with these marine species.”

Watson recently completed his doctorate under Allen Place at the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science. I asked Watson about the importance of this development and the future of marine fish aquaculture.

[Note: Responses were formatted to add spacing and punctuation for ease of reading.]

Americans are famously suspicious of new foods. Even cobia has been slapped with a fancy trade name like “black salmon” (though it is neither black nor a salmon). What does cobia taste like and why might people like it?

Cobia has a very white, flaky texture and is typically not a very oily or high fat fish. This makes the fillet great for cooking in a variety of ways, as it takes on the flavor of additions very well without an over-riding fishy flavor. The fillets are also excellent for sashimi.

A juvenile cobia (Rachycentron canadum) cultivated at the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science. (Image Credit: University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science/Cheryl Nemazie)

What are some interesting facts about cobia reproduction and juvenile growth? How do you get such a large marine fish to spawn in captivity?

This species has great potential for aquaculture because of its rapid growth rates, reaching market size in well under a year in a variety of culture conditions. Spawning in captivity has been achieved in multiple places around the world simply by photo-thermal manipulation, meaning simply changing the temperature and light regimes of the tanks [where] broodtsock are held in, to mimic natural spawning seasons.

Cobia females can produce up to two million eggs about every two weeks during the spawning season which can last several months, so egg and larval production can occur year-round with multiple tanks of broodstock under different photo-thermal regimes. Larvae begin feeding approximately three days after hatching, can be fed rotifers and artemia, which are easy to culture, and then be weaned on to dry feeds after only a few weeks — unlike some species [which] may require these relatively expensive live-feed set-ups for much longer.

[Note: Rotifers and artemia are planktonic animals. Artemia are better known as "sea monkeys" or brine shrimp.]

An 8-week-old cobia at a Virginia Institute of Marine Science aquaculture research facility, raised as part of a NOAA National Marine Aquaculture Initiative project. (Image Credit: Virginia Institute of Marine Science)

Why is it important for us to move away from fish-based feeds in aquaculture?

The biggest reason to move away from fish-based feeds for aquaculture is to allow the industry to expand and increase production — sustainably — as the global population and demand for protein continues to increase.

The USDA and NOAA have established alternative feeds as a priority area for aquaculture research, so there is a great deal of effort around the country and the world going into the research to find and develop fishmeal and fish oil replacements for virtually every species in intensive culture and those being developed for large-scale aquaculture.

This is not a new area of research — and a great deal of work has been done over several decades in the development of feeds for aquaculture, and more recently, ways to reduce and potentially eliminate fishmeal and fish oil use with more readily available, sustainable alternatives. Most notably among the potential and currently used alternative protein and lipid sources [are ones that] come from terrestrially cultivated crops.

As many people are well aware, many of the ocean’s fisheries are at maximum sustainable capacity, yet the demand for seafood increases every year. Fishmeal and fish oil production come from those fisheries, so unless we are able to reduce the quantities of these ingredients that are then utilized to feed farmed fish, the aquaculture industry cannot increase overall output.

Juvenile cobia at an aquaculture facility. (Image Credit: NOAA)

Aquaculture sometimes gets a bad rap, due to examples of overcrowding, antibiotics and nutrient pollution. What are some positive aspects of marine fish aquaculture?

In general, the positive aspects of marine aquaculture are that it can reduce the pressures on wild stocks, which would hopefully reduce some of the potentially negative impacts of over-fishing.

This is especially important when considering that many of the species that are fished for human consumption — such as tunas, sea bream, cobia, etc. — rely on stocks of smaller bait fish such as menhaden, anchovy, sardine, and capelin. These smaller species are the ones generally being fished for fishmeal and fish oil production.

So if we can sustainably raise fish for human consumption both through aquaculture in general and reducing the quantities of fishmeal and fish oil required for aquaculture, the hope is we can take fishing pressure off both the smaller forage species and the larger predatory species, helping ecosystems and food-webs return to more natural states.

The Institute of Marine and Environmental Technology (IMET) at the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science. (Image Credit: University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science)

The type of aquaculture systems that we use here at the Institute of Marine and Environmental Technology are called recirculating aquaculture systems (RAS). These are great systems for aquaculture because they are land-based, self-contained systems that give us a lot of control in terms of temperature, salinity, and nutrient load.

These systems are not connected to any local water source — we use Baltimore city tap water, dechlorinated, and add in the required salts and nutrients to as closely mimic natural sea water as possible. This type of system could be set-up virtually anywhere with the proper infrastructure. These systems allow us to optimize environmental conditions for multiple species in separate systems all within the same facility to maximize growth and reproductive potential.

Since these systems are not connected to the local ecosystem, there is no fear of escapes, polluting the local environment, or having our systems and fish at the mercy of changing environmental conditions that could prevent sustained optimal growth. Most pathogen issues are minimal since these systems can contain the entire life-cycle of a species from broodstock to eggs and larvae, through to juveniles being reared to market size and harvest. Minimizing the potential introduction of pathogens greatly reduces the need for antibiotic use, and recirculating the water through biological, mechanical, and ozone or UV treatment allows these systems to maintain high water quality, encouraging not only fish health, but optimal growth.

At some point we experience an encounter with nature that hits us to the core. Was there a memorable experience in your life that helped steer your interests toward fish biology and aquaculture?

I went on a seventh grade class field trip to the Florida Keys where we spent a week snorkeling, conducting plankton tows, and learning how to identify all kinds of species on the reefs and in the mangroves.

After that trip I knew I wanted to study marine biology and eventually got into raising clownfish while in college. Taking a batch of clownfish eggs and raising and watching them develop all the way into juveniles got me hooked on aquaculture.

Thank you for your time, Aaron.

Rachycentron canadum — the cobia. (Image Source: Healthy Grin Sport Fishing)

Rachycentron canadum (Linnaeus, 1766)
Cobia (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Rachycentridae (Cobia)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/3542

Citations

Watson, AM, FT Barrows, AR Place. 2013. Taurine supplementation of plant derived protein and n-3 fatty acids are critical for optimal growth and development of cobia, Rachycentron canadum. Lipids. doi: 10.1007/s11745-013-3814-2

– Ben Young Landis

“Thank You Lord” by Al Hoffacker, capturing a spotted seatrout in the clutches of an osprey in Florida. (Copyright Al Hoffacker/Half-Cracker Waterward Photography & Images)

Reading my Facebook newsfeed on a lazy Saturday morning, my jaw dropped at seeing this fantastic photo posted by the Facebook Page of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge.

We see here an osprey (Pandion haliaetus) beating its powerful wings and carrying off a sizable fish in its hook-like talons. Ospreys are birds of prey that specialize in feeding on fish, circling high over inshore waters until they spot a target — at which point they hover in mid-air to steady their position — and then suddenly dive-bomb towards the water surface, plunging in talons-first to strike and grab the target fish. It’s quite the sight to see.

Detail of “Thank You Lord” by Al Hoffacker, capturing a spotted seatrout in the clutches of an osprey in Florida. (Copyright Al Hoffacker/Half-Cracker Waterward Photography & Images)

In the clutches of this osprey is a large, beautiful spotted seatrout (Cynoscion nebulosus). For some size perspective, ospreys measure almost 2 feet (60 cm) from beak to tail but top out only around 4 pounds (1.8 kg). This spotted seatrout is nearly the same length and possibly twice that weight.

This moment in time was captured by nature photographer Al Hoffacker of Fort Meyers, Florida. Mr. Hoffacker generously allowed me to reshare his photo on Better Know a Fish, and I asked him to share the story behind this action shot:

Was in my flats skiff idling out my channel to sight fish Snook and Redfish, when the bird appeared off in the distance. Noticed it was carryin’ a very large Spotted seatrout. I immediately grabbed the camera and took the shot and watched as the bird began a landing on a perch in a Red Mangrove tree. Just before landing, the fish fell out of the birds talons and into the Mangrove understory.

The bird studied the wounded prey for a minute or so, as it couldn’t get to it again because of the thick vegetation. The bird then went back to feeding on the adjacent grass flat. Went over to the area where the fish had fallen, and saw no trace of it. It was a really cool way to start off a beautiful morning. By the way, we had a banner day of sight fishing for Snook, Redfish, and baby Tarpon.

In his website biography, Hoffacker professes that since he was “blessed to be on the water and in the woods almost every day, why not capture and share the beauty with others what ‘The Big Guy’ created for all of us to enjoy and conserve.”

Nature photographer Al Hoffacker. (Image courtesy of Al Hoffacker)

Hoffacker says that he enjoys sharing his photos with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and other folks who appreciate the wildlife moments in life, and that he puts his photography earnings into better camera equipment and to help his daughter though college.

“Thank You Lord” was the title he gave to this scene. You can purchase this and other prints at www.half-crackerphoto.com.

*   *   *   *   *

The spotted seatrout is now the third member of the drum family that has been featured on this blog. I seem to have an accidental fondness for drum.

But once again, it is fascinating to note the diversity of shapes and forms that the Sciaenidae body plan can evolve into. The white seabass (Atractoscion nobilis) is a very large predator that schools in the cold, kelp forests of California, whereas the spotted drum (Equetus punctatus) is small, bottom-dwelling forager in the warm coral reefs of the Caribbean.

In contrast, the spotted seatrout is more of a shallow-water predator, hunting fish prey in seagrass beds and oyster beds in estuaries and coastal waters of the eastern United States and Gulf of Mexico. Spotted seatrout have a pair of sharp, dog-like canine teeth at the tip of their upper jaw — a feature recognized in their genus name, Cynoscion, where Cyno- comes from the Greek word for dog.

The canine teeth of the spotted seatrout (Cynoscion nebulosus) is apparent in this photo of a seatrout tagged for research purposes. (Image Credit: Tim Ellis/North Carolina State University)

The mouth of a spotted seatrout (Cynoscion nebulosus) and its namesake teeth. (Image Source: Steve Gibson/Gibby’s Fishing Blog)

Also known as “speckled trout” or “speckled seatrout” or “spotted weakfish”, Cynoscion nebulosus isn’t just eagle food — it is also highly sought after by humans as a food fish and gamefish wherever it occurs.

Spotted seatrout is of such importance to the recreational fishing industry that many state government agencies in the U.S. study seatrout ecology, so as to understand how to manage seatrout numbers to sustain both wild populations and recreational fishing harvests.

Watch this video from the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission on spotted seatrout breeding ecology studies in Tampa Bay, Florida — in which we also find out how to tell if a spotted seatrout is male or female:

And watch this video by North Carolina State University researcher Tim Ellis on the vulnerability of spotted seatrout to extreme cold snaps during winter seasons — a phenomenon documented as far back as 1709. Ellis describes the tagging research used to study the movement of seatrout within estuaries and to investigate this vulnerability:

Cynoscion nebulosus — the spotted seatrout. (Image source: http://www.gulfshores.com)

Cynoscion nebulosus (Cuvier, 1830)
Spotted Seatrout (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Sciaenidae (Drums and Croakers)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/405

My thanks again to Al Hoffacker for permission to share his photo.

– Ben Young Landis

Golden threadfin bream (Nemipterus virgatus) sold frozen. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

I don’t always buy frozen fish, but when I do, I usually regret it.

To be clear, fish that is caught and immediately cleaned, vacuum-packed and then frozen can be very good. Frozen mackerel fillets, for example.

But the simple truth is, when a fish is frozen, there are very few clues about the freshness and quality of the fish until you thaw it. All the typical signs you would look for in freshly caught fish — clear, bright eyes, red-hued gills, a clean smell — aren’t apparent in a fish that is frozen stiff.

That was the risk I took when I shopped at our local Asian supermarket recently.

Asian markets are wonderful places to go fish-spotting. There is always such a variety of species — often displayed whole for the buyer to handle and examine. Some are even alive and swimming in crowded, aerated tanks.

This pair of golden threadfin bream (Nemipterus virgatus) I picked up were decidedly less lively.

Frozen and shrink-wrapped on a polystyrene tray, there is no way for me to know how long the fish spent decomposing in the heat before being frozen, or other guesses at its fate before being repackaged by the supermarket’s distribution center.

Thawing the package out, the distinct smell of old fish hit me.

Nemipterus virgatus, thawed from a frozen package. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

The head of a Nemipterus virgatus. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Notice the general pallor of the fish. The eyes are clouded over, nearly opaque on one side. The body limp and flaccid, unlike the taut fullness of fresh fish. Scaling and gutting these two carcasses, the stink of old fish permeated my kitchen.

Now compare my photos of the thawed bream with these photos of fresh, never-frozen bream. Notice how bright and lively the colors are — and you can see the characteristic “golden threadfin” on the fish’s tail in the first photo. The eyes are clear and life-like. The smell undoubtedly would be that of a clean, ocean smell, with only a hint of fish odor.

Nemipterus virgatus is known as itoyoridai in Japanese. (Image Source: http://www.takasushiatlanta.com)

Golden threadfin bream sold in a Hong Kong supermarket. (Image Source: Simmremmai/Wikimedia Commons)

The golden threadfin bream is a member of the threadfin bream family, Nemipteridae, a group of fishes related to grunts and porgies. My frozen fish were caught in Vietnam, but golden threadfin bream are found in the oceans off throughout East Asia as far north as Japan, and also off of northwestern Australia.

Golden threadfin bream are typically about 9 inches (23 cm) in length. And of course, they are very popular as food fish and are a commercial fishery in East Asia.

With that, let us erase some of that old fish smell with a few photos of live golden threadfin bream:

A golden threadfin bream (Nemipterus virgatus) caught off of northern Taiwan. (Image Source: dracula0911.blogspot.com)

A golden threadfin bream (Nemipterus virgatus) caught off of northern Taiwan. (Image Source: dracula0911.blogspot.com)

Nemipterus virgatus, the golden threadfin bream. (Image Source: h16nakaji.blogspot.com)

Nemipterus virgatus. (Image Source: Georges Declercq/WoRMS)

Nemipterus virgatus (Houttuyn, 1782)
Golden Threadfin Bream (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Nemipteridae (Threadfin Breams)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/396

– Ben Young Landis

Sold as smelt, this is actually a package of Chilean silversides (Odonesthes regia), which is not in the smelt family, Osmeridae. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

This is not a bag of smelt.

Fish are notoriously insufficiently labeled. And sometimes, they are entirely mislabeled, as we will see in this example.

On my last trip to our local Asian supermarket, I also picked up this package of frozen fish. Smelt is one of my favorite fish to eat — various smelt species are eaten in many countries, often deep-fried or grilled whole, with female fish often full of rich, creamy eggs inside. So I was excited to bring this batch home and have a smelt species to write about.

Although the packaging said “smelt” in three different languages — English, French and Chinese — when I opened the bag, something else fell out.

Odontesthes regia is one of several species referred to as “pejerrey” in Peru. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis)

The fish in my hand had two dorsal fins — the fins along the fish’s back. Both, however, were supported by thin bones, or rays.

True smelts belong to Family Osmeridae and various other families in Order Osmeriformes. True smelts only have one dorsal fin with rays, while the second dorsal fin, located closer to the tail, looks more like a little fleshy nub. This type of fin is called an adipose fin – you can also find them on salmon, trout and most catfish.

The difference in appearance between between an adipose fin and a regular ray-fin. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

A package of Chilean silversides (Odontesthes regia) showing its country of origin, Peru. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

The dorsal fins were a good clue, and narrowed down the possible families of fishes. Also helpful was the country of origin: wild-caught in Peru.

A round of searches online revealed the fish’s identity: the Chilean or Peruvian silverside (Odontesthes regia), a small fish topping at 5 inches (13 cm) native to the estuaries and coasts of Chile and Peru.

Odonthesthes regia, as pictured in the online commerce website Alibaba.com. (Image Source: http://www.alibaba.com)

Silversides belong to Order Atheriniformes, which also contains the freshwater rainbowfishes popular in the aquarium trade, as well as the odd priapiumfishes, in which the male fish has a sex organ extending from underneath its head.

Less bizarre but no less interesting a relative is the California grunion (Leuresthes tenuis), famous for its spawning orgies onto sandy beaches at night. The California grunion is a close relative of our Peruvian silversides, both belonging to the silverside family Atherinopsidae.

In Peru, the Peruvian silverside is referred to as pejerrey, a name also used elsewhere in South America for other silverside species. Pejerrey is “highly appreciated in South America, especially in Peru and Chile where it is considered a fish of excellent gastronomic quality” (Orellana and Toledo 2007). Online recipes show photos of pejerrey sandwiches, and as my Peruvian colleague from graduate school Martin Romero Wolf tells me, “We eat it deep fried or in ceviche. It good and cheap. Has a sort of strong taste.”

Odontesthes regia featured on a Peruvian postage stamp. (Image Source: www. stampsperu.com)

Odontesthes regia, the Chilean or Peruvian silverside. (image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

So pejerrey is what we will call it, to reflect its Peruvian heritage. Now for the fun of it, let’s check on the other names on the the package label.

Eperlan, the French word used, is the name for the European smelt (Osmerus eperlanus) of northern European lakes and seas – a true smelt.

香魚, the Chinese characters used, refers to yet another species on yet another continent, specifically the sweetfish (Plecoglossus altivelis) of East Asian rivers and seas. It is known as ayu in Japan — and it is also a true smelt.

One label. Three names. Three species. Three continents.

But what’s the difference, really? All are small, silvery fish what roam the seas and estuaries, and if you wanted to sell pejerrey to audiences unfamiliar with names like “pejerrey” or “silversides”, you might choose to grab another name that the local audience has context of.

Yet here lies the inevitable disappointment. Those who know the difference will be disappointed. There are indeed differences among the three fish – pejerrey, éperlan, ayu — and having had both ayu and pejerrey, I can say that they differ greatly in their flavors and tastes. Not to speak of their ecologies and cultural contexts.

So I choose not to be oblivious to mislabeled fish. If these days we can make a big fuss about the difference between kale varieties or grape varietals, I think the better thing to do is to better know a fish — and appreciate their splendid biological and gastronomical diversity.

Fried pejerrey served on tortillas. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Odonteshes regia (Humboldt, 1821)
Pejerrey (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Atheriniformes (Silversides)
Family Atherinopsidae (Neotropical Silversides)

FishBase Page: http://fishbase.org/summary/8172

Citations

Orellana, FA, HE Toledo. 2007. Growth of juvenile marine silverside (Odontesthes regia Humboldt, 1821)(Atherinidae) in sea net pen cages. Gayana 71(1): 76-83.

– Ben Young Landis

The head of an adult bigeye emperor or mu (Monotaxis grandoculis) at a Japanese restaurant. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

My good friend Len and I stopped by our favorite Japanese restaurant last week, and whilst chatting with the chef, we were treated to the sight of this fabulously expressive fish head.

We just got this in from Hawaii, the chef said. Showing us the invoice, the chef asked Len if he knew how to pronounce the name of this fish, knowing that my friend often visited relations there.

My friend and I looked at the crumpled sheet of paper: 6lbs, mu’u, display.

Mooh-ooh? My friend thought.

Sounds Hawaiian, I said.

A phone call was made to Hawaii for a second opinion. I asked the chef if I may examine the fish close-up.

I stood half-way up on my bar stool to take better photographs. The commotion caused my fellow diners to look on with curiosity.

The fish sat still, frozen with the exaggerated gaze of a kabuki actor.

The filleted remains of a bigeye emperor or mu (Monotaxis grandoculis) at a Japanese restaurant. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

The toothy grin of a bigeye emperor (Monotaxis grandoculis), or mu. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Mu-u, or mū, is the Hawaiian name for Monotaxis grandoculis, variously known as the bigeye emperor or humphead bigeye bream. Resembling a porgy with its snaggled grin and shell-crunching molars, mū belong to a related family, Lethrinidae, popularly known as the emperors.

An adult bigeye emperor (Monotaxis grandoculis) in Hurghada, Red Sea. (Image Credit: Thomas Jundt/www.corals.org)

The mū in our possession would appear to be one of average size, about 15 inches (40 cm). Mū feed on sea snails, brittle stars and sea urchins on coral reefs in Hawaii, westward to East Asia and northern Australia, continuing into the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea (Carpenter and Allen 1989). One young specimen was sighted in Turkish waters, possibly having made its way through the Suez Canal and into the Mediterranean Sea (Bilecenoglu 2007).

Adult mū can be found in a dark-colored form or a light-colored form. When harassed, both forms have the ability to quickly revert their colors to dark, saddle-like patterns, a throwback to their more striking colors as juveniles (Carpenter and Allen 1989).

Monotaxis grandoculis, the bigeye emperor. (Image Credit: James Watt/Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument)

A juvenile bigeye emperor (Monotaxis grandoculis), known as “mu” in Hawaii. (Image Credit: Bryan Harry/National Park Service)

A juvenile bigeye emperor (Monotaxis grandoculis) in the Red Sea. (Image Credit: Dennis Polack/FishWise Professional/CC-BY)

The Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument writes of the mū:

[They] are an odd fish, almost like cows of the shallow reef, the way they gather in groups and wander about. They have an interesting tendency to hover, almost motionless, over the reef. If you try to approach them they magically drift away, keeping the same distance, yet do not appear to move at all. It is like they are levitating.

The Hawaiian Dictionary from the University of Hawaii Press provides clarification on pronouncing the ū vowel:

…like oo  in moon… vowels marked with macrons are somewhat longer than other vowels and are always stressed.

Under its entry for mū:

1. n. General name for destructive insects that eat wood, cloth, or plants…
2. vs. Silent; to shut the lips and make no sound…
3. vi. Gather together, of crowds of people…
4. n. A crab (Dynomene hispida)…
5. (Cap.) n. Legendary people of Lā’au-haele-mai, Kauai…
6. n. Bigeye emperor fish (Monotaxis grandoculis), perhaps named for the Mū people. (PNP muu)…
7. n. Public executioner; he procured victims for sacrifice and executed taboo breakers; children were frightened by being told that the mū would get them…

A bigeye emperor in northwest Hawaii Islands. (Image Credit: Dwayne Meadows/NOAA/NMFS/OPR)

Monotaxis grandoculis (Forsskål, 1775)
Mū (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Lethrinidae (Emperors)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/1869

Citations

Bilecenoglu, M. 2007. The first record of Monotaxis grandoculis (Forsskål, 1775) (Osteichthyes, Lethrinidae) in the Mediterranean Sea. Aquatic Invasions 2(4): 466-467. doi: 10.3391/ai.2007.2.4.22

Carpenter, KE, GR Allen. FAO species catalogue. Vol.9. Emperor fishes and large-eye breams of the world (family Lethrinidae). An annotated and illustrated catalogue of lethrinid species known to date. FAO Fisheries Synopsis. No. 125, Volume 9. Rome, FAO. 1989. 118p.

Kawena Pukui, M, SH Elbert. Hawaiian dictionary: Hawaiian-English, English-Hawaiian. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986. 600p.

– Ben Young Landis

A box of frozen Janssons frestelse sold by IKEA in the United States, reclining comfortably on an IKEA Karlstad chair. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

All foods have a cultural context. What it is made of, on what occasion it is eaten, perhaps the origin of its name, and so forth. And when that food gets exported to another culture, it makes for many questions and often, an unexpectedly fun exploration into that food’s home culture.

Take for instance, this box of gratäng Jansson I found in the frozen food section at IKEA.

Warming up some Janssons frestelse from IKEA in the oven. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Volvo and H&M aside, IKEA might be the most well-known Swedish brand for the casual consumer, exporting Scandinavian design and home furnishings all over the world. It also pitches Swedish cuisine to new markets and audiences, from pallets of lingonberry jam to freezer stacks of this gratäng Jansson – “potato gratin with marinated herring”, explains the box.

But this being the United States — land of the cultural melting pot and frequently, seemingly foreign-sounding cuisines which in reality are purely American inventions — I wondered how “Swedish” this dish actually was, or whether it was a put-on like “Chinese chicken salad” and so forth.

So I posed the question online to my two Swedish contacts: Kevin, an American marine biologist turned craft beer brewer now living in Sweden, and Tali, who is an expert on Swedish culture, in that he is Swedish.

Me:  Is this something Swedish people actually eat, Kevin, Tali? Any cultural significance? Or is this more like IKEA making stuff up for Americans?

Kevin:  Yes! It’s called Jansson’s Temptation or Janssons Frestelse in Swedish. It’s quite good. Probably the only way to eat pickled sprats! In the U.S. they often substitute herring or anchovy. Very similar, small oily shoaling fish. We eat it every Christmas and maybe for Easter too. I don’t know about IKEA, but when my wife or her relatives make it, it’s fantastic! Usually with lots of cream.

Me:  Thanks, man! I am guessing that the homemade Swedish version is waaaaaaaay much better. The IKEA version was super duper salty and fishy — like, the cream and potatoes were salty too, not just the herring pieces. And I like fishy foods. And would this be the right sprat: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/1357?

Kevin:  Yes, it’s the European sprat, type species for the genus and the one that lives in the Baltic! It is a pretty fishy meal, though. And salty. But there is usually enough garlic, yellow onion and cream to balance it.

Salted sprats (Sprattus sprattus) at a bazaar in Odessa, Ukraine. (Image Credit: Niki K/Wikimedia Commons)

Tali:  Also, it’s THE traditional late-night munchies dish, hence the salt!

Kevin:  Yes! Usually eaten the presence of the Swedish meal trifecta: glass of wine, a pilsner and a glass of schnapps (a whiskey while you wait for food and and Irish coffee after the meal).

Tali:  Which brings us to that wonderful word: blandmissbruk.

Kevin:  Indeed! Translates to something like mixed abuse, right?

Tali:  Indeed. Healthier than it sounds… sort of.

Me:  It would seem that I need to get some blandmissbruk in before I dip into Janssons frestelse again?

Tali:  Just make sure you have the “lagom“ amount (see: Slate.com | Why Are Swedes So Quiet?).

Me:  [....] (That’s me attempting lagom in this conversation.)

Kevin:  Lagom isn’t something one attempts. It is a state of being.

And so, from a frozen box of fish and potatoes from IKEA, we learned about a traditional Swedish dish — one that is listed in Sweden’s official culture and tourism website and an “absolute legend on the Swedish Christmas table” according to The Huffington Post Food Blog. We traced the species in question to the European sprat (Sprattus sprattus), a schooling marine fish of the North Atlantic and Mediterranean averaging 5 inches (13 cm) in length, with more than 300,000 metric tons caught commercially each year (Whitehead 1985; Eero 2012). A species known in various languages as skarpsill, brisling, papalina, esprot, spratto, and çaça, then in the 18th Century was among the many creatures cataloged by Carl Linneaus — the father of modern biological taxonomy and a celebrated Swede.

We also learned that Janssons frestelse doubles as a great late-night snack if you’re war-weary after an intoxicating campaign defeating regiments of schnapps and other spirits — but also that you should engage in such blandmissbruk only sparingly, for one would do well to remember the Swedish ethos of lagum — moderation and humility for the sake of the society. And that lagum isn’t something one attempts — it is a state of being.

So let us meditate on that, and on these visions of Janssons frestelse across the globe:

Sprat (Sprattus sprattus) from the Southern North Sea. (Image Credit: Hans Hillewaert/Wikimedia Commons)

Sprattus sprattus (Linnaeus, 1758)
European Sprat (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Clupeiformes (Herrings, Anchovies and allies)
Family Clupeidae (Herrings)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/1357

Citations

Eero, M. Reconstructing the population dynamics of sprat (Sprattus sprattus balticus) in the Baltic Sea in the 20th century. 2012. ICES Journal of Marine Science. doi: 10.1093/icesjms/fss051

Linneaus, C. 1758. Systema naturae per regna tria naturae :secundum classes, ordines, genera, species, cum characteribus, differentiis, synonymis, locis. 10th Edition.

Whitehead, PJP. FAO species catalogue Vol. 1.7. Clupeoid fishes of the world. An annotated and illustrated catalogue of the herrings, sardines, pilchards, sprats, anchovies and wolfherrings. Part 1 – Chirocentridae, Clupeidae and Pristigasteridae. FAO Fisheries Synopsis. No. 125 Volume 1.7 Part l. Rome, FAO. 1985. 303p.

– Ben Young Landis

Loup de mer (Dicentrarchus labrax). (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis)

My local brasserie hosts a French conversation happy hour each week, and “animals” was the theme of our most recent session.

Our linguistic ark covered the land, air and sea:  renard is fox, lapin is rabbit, canard is duck, dindon is a tom turkey, and so forth. When we reached les poissons, one name stood out: loup de mer — the “wolf of the sea”.

The European seabass (Dicentrarchus labrax) is another classic fish of Europe, known by a multitude of names. Loup de mer and bar commun are among its French names, while in German it is the Europäischer Wolfsbarsch. In Spain it can be listed as lubina or róbalo, and in Greek, Hebrew and Turkish, the names lavráki, lavrak, and levrek refer to the same fish, respectively.

In the United States of late, many restaurants have taken to adapting its Italian moniker — branzino, or branzini in plural, alternatively spelled bronzino and bronzini. According to the Italian Wikipedia, branzino is used in northern Italy, whereas spigola is used in peninsular Italy, ragno in Tuscany, and pesce lupo elsewhere.

In fact, we can find this fish in the same 1st Century Roman mosaic where we found the previously discussed dorade royale — and also in the most recent season of Mad Men, where Don Draper’s paramour Sylvia Rosen orders it at an Italian restaurant.

Don Draper (Jon Hamm) and Sylvia Rosen (Linda Cardellini) in the U.S. television series “Mad Men”, preparing to dine on steak diavolo and branzino in the sixth season episode “The Collaborators”. (Image Credit: AMC/Lionsgate)

A mosaic found in House VIII.2.16 in Pompeii. The European seabass (Dicentrarchus labrax) is at the bottom center of the image. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

Dicentrarchus labrax, known as lavraki in Greek. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

The European seabass is native to the eastern Atlantic Ocean, north to Norway and south to Senegal and the Canary Islands, and the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea on the interior.

It is an extremely adaptable fish, capable of tolerating  temperatures from 41 degrees to 82 degrees Fahrenheit (4 to 28 degrees Celsius) and a wide range of salinity. As a result, loup de mer can be found in cold, coastal waters as deep as 320 feet (100 meters), though more often in shallower, inshore waters and estuaries.

I was able to buy whole bronzini at my local fishmonger in California, which sourced it from an aquaculture company in Cyprus. The bronzino is considered by the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) as the most important commercial fish widely cultured in Mediterranean areas, with Greece, Turkey, Italy, Spain, Croatia and Egypt the biggest producers as of 2006.

Branzini sold at a California fishmonger. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Bronzino served as nigiri sushi at a Japanese restaurant. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis)

With monikers like “wolf of the sea” and wolfsbarsch, it should come as no surprise that the European seabass is a predator, feasting on other fish as adults and on shrimp and other invertebrates as juveniles. Indeed, the European seabass is a prized target of sportsfishers, with maximum records of 3 feet (1 meter) and 26 pounds (12 kilograms).

A large European seabass caught off of Morocco. (Image Source: Sabon Abdel/www.theangler-gpc.com)

From branzini to loup de mer, I’ve thrown around a number of international names hereabouts, but let us end with a look at its English name: seabass.

“Sea bass” in itself is one of the most confusing and more abused names in seafood. It can mean different fish to different people, or worse, it is used as a “garbage pail” word to describe a unfamiliar fish to unsuspecting customers, typically in an exchange like this:

Waiter: “Our special for this evening is a [insert random fish name], pan-seared and served with fingerling potatoes and asparagus.”

Me: “What’s a [insert random fish name]?”

Waiter: “It’s a sea bass.”

That explains nothing, if you don’t already know what a sea bass is, or have a completely different mental image of a sea bass than the other person.

European seabass served at a café in Barcelona, Spain. (Image Credit: Itai Shelem)

So let’s review a few commonly encountered “sea basses”.

Our fish — loup de mer, branzino, Dicentrarchus labrax — is a species in Family Moronidae, which are more accurately (though rather unexcitingly) known as the “temperate basses” due to their known range in temperate-climate waters. The temperate basses can be found on both sides of the North Atlantic Ocean, and North American anglers will recognize the freshwater species white bass (Morone chrysops) and yellow bass (Morone mississippiensis), and the well-known coastal species striped bass (Morone saxatilis) or “striper”.

So for North American readers, the best and most correct way to describe our fish would be “it’s a European relative of striped bass”.

Beyond this comparison, the world of “sea basses” starts to get confusing.

• Chefs and saltwater anglers in the Atlantic U.S. will recognize the black sea bass (Centropristis striata) — which belong in Family Serranidae, the sea basses and groupers. This is an extraordinarily diverse group with 500-plus species found in tropical and temperate seas worldwide, and the group that can most appropriately be called “sea basses”.
• Chefs and saltwater anglers in the Pacific U.S. will encounter the name white seabass (Atractoscion nobilis). But as we discussed in an earlier Better Know a Fish entry, the white seabass or corvina blanca is actually a drum fish in Family Sciaenidae, and not related to either temperate or sea basses. At this point, the use of “sea bass” is a matter of convenience for familiarity.
• Which brings us to the worst offender — the Chilean seabass (Dissostichus eleginoides), a fish whose name is entirely an enterprising invention. Now a popular and rather expensive fish, “Chilean seabass” was coined by an American fish merchant in 1977 to market an otherwise undesired and accidentally caught species from sub-Antarctic waters. Belonging to Family Nototheniidae, this bottom-dwelling, long-living deepwater fish was originally called “Patagonia toothfish” — and with a face that only an ichthyologist would love, it bears zero resemblance to sea basses and temperate basses.

There are many more “sea basses” out there, referring to various species depending on the geographic region, appropriately used for some and egregiously misused for others. But this short list shows that in some ways, it may be quite useful to refer to a fish by its native, non-English names.

You could probably ask for branzino or loup de mer at a good fish market or seafood restaurant, and likely receive the correct fish or at least told it isn’t offered — and if they have zero idea what you’re talking about, at least you won’t be duped into buying something different (although you should probably find a new market/restaurant).

But imagine if you simply asked for “sea bass” — heaven knows what you might actually be getting.

The lupine head of Dicentrarchus labrax, the European seabass. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Pan-seared loup de mer with oven-roasted potatoes and Brussels sprouts. (Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

Dicentrarchus labrax (Linnaeus, 1758)
European Seabass (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Moronidae (Temperate Basses)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/63

– Ben Young Landis

Neocirrhites armatus, the flame hawkfish, perched in a saltwater aquarium. (Image Credit: Ben Young Landis/CC-BY)

This little fish was my dinner date on a recent night out. Though it turns out she has quite the complicated love life.

This is a flame hawkfish (Neocirrhites armatus), a small, tropical marine fish no bigger than a cosmetic compact mirror. That night dining out, I happened to be seated next to one of the restaurant’s saltwater aquariums.

I looked over, and our eyes met.

Native to the coral reefs of the western Pacific Ocean, the flame hawkfish is a sought-after species in the aquarium fish trade. Hobbyists enjoy its inquisitive nature, darting about the fish tank and peering at visitors with Muppet-like, googly eyes. Hawkfish are called such because of their habit of perching atop coral branches like hawks — then bursting off for circling swims to patrol their patch of territory, before returning to their favorite perching branch.

While our date that night was brief, the flame hawkfish has no shortage of romantic intrigue.

The flame hawkfish favors a specific type of coral and is highly preferential in terms of territory — some individuals have been observed to reside continuously on the same coral head for more than two years (Donaldson 1989).

Within their little homefront, flame hawkfish often live in monogamous pairs, defending their territory against intruding males and large females. Couples engage in frequent courtship year-round, and courtship takes place — you guessed it — around sunset (Donaldson 1989).

But like many other reef fish species, the “relationship status” of flame hawkfish has dizzying twists, many of them described by biologist Terry Donaldson in a 1989 study.

“Hey, how YOU doin’?” (Image Source: http://www.pacificeastaquaculture.com)

It seems that flame hawkfish monogamy depends on the size and number of their coral head habitat. On reefs where suitable coral heads are located sufficiently apart, flame hawkfish are likely to form monogamous pairs, presumably because the chance of males finding and meeting female mates is much lower.

But on coral heads large enough to support the territories of multiple females, or on reefs where suitable coral heads are located close enough together, males will “acquire” additional females — and a small harem forms.

Donaldson observed two of these relationship structures. In one, “a male living with a female often made visits to a second adjacent female during courtship periods, but returned to the coral where the first female resided.”

In another, a single male living alone will have visited “each of the females in adjacent coral heads during courtship periods but returned to its own coral head when courtship had been completed.”

To use American English vernacular, some male flame hawkfish, it would appear, are “playahs”.

But wait, there’s more! It turns out that flame hawkfish are “protogynous hermaphrodites” — all flame hawkfish are born female, but as they grow larger, their gonads will change from egg-producing ovaries into sperm-producing testes. The sex change is permanent and males can’t change back into females — although there are other species of hawkfish that can do so (Sadovy and Donaldson 1995).

This expected sex change might explain why on smaller coral heads where mates are hard to come by, flame hawkfish couples will chase away intruding males and and large females.

A resident female has an obvious incentive to chase away intruding females, to prevent them from stealing her man, so to speak. But a resident male has an incentive to chase away large females because a large female could be ready to change into a male — one that could subsequently steal his woman.

So, it was probably for the better that my hawkfish date didn’t get too serious. Even if we had hit it off, I might have come home one day to find all my possessions thrown out of my house, with my hawkfish bride-turned-groom possibly on the prowl and sleeping around with my neighbors. My life ruined because of some pint-sized, tomato-colored sleazeball…

“Who, me?” (Image Source: Oregon Coast Aquarium)

Addendum October 27, 2013: Professor Terry Donaldson followed up with me by email, and offered even more fascinating observations about the breeding ecology of the flame hawkfish. I asked him whether flame hawkfish changed sex simply as they grew larger, or whether females changed sex when a resident male is lost.

Donaldson replies: “I am still investigating the question you raised but can offer a bit of insight. With Neocirrhites and probably Oxycirrhites typus, both obligate coral-dwelling species, sex-change is probably driven by environmental/behavioral cues, e.g. the loss of the male in a mating group.”

Donaldson adds he suspects flame hawkfish are capable of bidirectional sex change — unlimited gender switches between male/female states — and he hopes to conduct further studies.

“Bidirectional sex change might occur also, but again this would be driven by a behavioral cue. If a larger male succeeds in gaining entry into a coral head, it might force the smaller resident male to change back into a female, so as to make the best of a bad situation without losing available microhabitat and mating opportunities.”

Neocirrhites armatus Castelnau, 1873
Flame Hawkfish (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Perciformes (Perch-like Fishes)
Family Cirrhitidae (Hawkfishes)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/5832

Citations

Donaldson, TJ. 1989. Facultative monogamy in obligate coral-dwelling hawkfishes (Cirrhtidae). Environmental Biology of Fishes 26(4): 295-302. doi: 10.1007/BF00002466

Sadovy, Y, TJ Donaldson. 1995. Sexual pattern of Neocirrhites armatus (Cirrhitidae) with notes on other hawkish species. Environmental Biology of Fishes 42(2): 143-150. doi: 10.1007/BF00001992

Thanks to researcher/model/friend Felicia Tsang for assistance with this post!

– Ben Young Landis

A Pacific ladyfish or machete (Elops affinis) caught in Mexico. (Image Source: steeliemike.blogspot.com)

The machete (Elops affinis) is one of several species of the ladyfish family, Elopidae, which occur in tropical to subtropical waters of the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian oceans.

All have silvery, blade-like bodies — reminiscent of the machete knife — which leap clear out of the water when hooked by an angler. Ladyfish provide a sporting fight with their acrobatics, but anglers also catch them to use as bait for other gamefish.

The lithe bodies of ladyfishes have an unusual origin — stages of metamorphosis that begin with transparent, ribbon-like larvae called leptocephalus (McBride et al. 2010). The haunting, alien bodies of the leptocephalus larval stage is unique to only a few groups of fishes — including eels, bonefish and tarpon. 

Some of the larval stages of the ladyfish (Elops saurus), a relative of the machete (Elops affinis). (Figures 3-8 from Gehringer 1959)

The machete itself can be found along the eastern Pacific coast in Mexico and Central America, north to Ventura, California, in the United States and south to Peru. They can reach lengths of 3 feet (90 cm), although most individuals are around 20 inches (50 cm).

Interestingly, in historic times, machete could also be found in the waters of the Colorado River.

The Colorado River once flowed through to Mexico and into the Colorado River Delta and the Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California). Machete and other fish species utilized this estuary habitat, travelling between the saltwater of the gulf and the freshwater of the river. Records show that machete could be found as far inland as the Salton Sea in the 1940′s (Dill and Woodhull 1942) and the mouth of the Gila River — in Yuma, Arizona — as late as 1997 (Minckley and Marsh 2009).

The situation of these waters and fish movements may change yet again, as a 2013 amendment to a U.S.-Mexico water treaty promises to return more water flow through to Mexico and the Colorado River Delta.

Machete swims — again? (Image Credit: Troublemaker Studios)

Elops affinis Regan, 1909
Machete (click for names in other languages)

Class Actinopterygii (Ray-finned Fishes)
Order Elopiformes (Tarpons and Ladyfishes)
Family Elopidae (Ladyfishes)

FishBase Page: http://www.fishbase.org/summary/2601

Citations

Dill, WA and C Woodhull. 1942. A gamefish for the Salton Sea, the ten-pounder, Elops affinis. California Fish and Game 28: 171-174.

Gehringer, JW. 1959. Early development and metamorphosis of the ten-pounder Elops saurus Linnaeus. U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Fishery Bulletin 59: 646-647.

McBride, RS, CR Rocha, R Ruiz-Carus, BW Bowen. 2010. A new species of ladyfish, of the genus Elops (Elopiformes: Elopidae), from the western Atlantic Ocean. Zootaxa 2346: 29-41.

Minckley, WL, PC Marsh. 2009. Inland fishes of the Greater Southwest: chronicle of a vanishing biota. University of Arizona Press. 426p.

Regan, CT. 1909. A revision of the fishes of the genus Elops. Annals and Magazine of Natural History 3(8): 37-40.

– Ben Young Landis